


counting your face among the living

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Queen are vampires living in 2019 and that's really all you need to know, Vampire!Freddie, Vampire!John, Vampire!Roger, Whump, gratuitous use of flashbacks, human!brian, hurt!Roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Brian May’s university experience hasn’t exactly been all he’d hoped it would be; living with three vampires while also trying to balance university life and his band has been hard enough, but when vampire hunters begin targeting those closest to him things only get harder.Or- The one where Roger gets staked, Brian is oblivious but a dedicated boyfriend, Freddie is the only one who has his shit together, and John is babie.





	counting your face among the living

**Author's Note:**

> Wow ok, so this was originally only going to be a short drabble but because I can't resist the idea of Vampire!Queen it's become this whole long convoluted story that I'm just hoping makes sense. Asdgfhkl if it's bad then I'd like to apologise in advance. Ahaha who needs academic success when you can write a 13k word long fic that no one asked for instead of revising?
> 
> EDIT- This is a bad fic that I wrote when I first joined the fandom. I don't have the heart to orphan it because I worked hard on it but just bear that in mind as you're reading.

Brian May’s university experience definitely hasn’t been all he’d thought it would be. Two years ago when he’d been struggling through his a levels he’d pictured lectures, parties, a band, and maybe even a boyfriend. And to be fair all of those things have indeed played a role, but they’ve also been accompanied by lies, secrecy, and (most recently) attempted murder. So all in all it’s been a bit of a mixed bag.

Not that it had started like this; the beginning of his first year had been almost normal with the exception of a few minor slips that only became more meaningful in hindsight. In fact for the most part the entirety of the last 16 months or so has been nothing but good times, and it’s only in the last three weeks that things have begun to fall apart in an almost spectacular manner.

But sat on the kitchen floor- one breath away from having a full blown anxiety attack- It’s these aforementioned good times that Brian tries to think about, instead of the fact that in the room right next door Roger might be dying. Might already be dead even. And although Brian understands why John and Freddie had insisted he stay out here while they perform the delicate, not to mention disturbing, operation of pulling the stake out of its position embedded in Roger’s chest, he can’t help but feel as if he ought to be there. If the worst happens he needs to be beside his boyfriend.

And the possibility that he might not be is currently sending waves of panic through him.

His time at university wasn’t meant to be like this.

 

**September 2017. 16 Months Ago.**

**He’s late. Only by two minutes, but given that he’s their last hope for finding a drummer those two minutes have felt like hours.**

**The waiting is doing nothing except fuelling Brian’s fears- What if he’s great at drumming but an absolute terror to work with? What if he’s a great person but a shit drummer? What if he just doesn’t show up at all?**

**There’s so much that could go wrong, and Brian’s worries aren’t helped by the fact that he’s something of an anxious person by nature.**

**However just as he’s contemplating asking Tim if it’s too late for them to just give up on the whole being in a band schtick and go find some other (significantly less stressful) hobbies their finally auditionee makes his long awaited appearance. By quite literally falling into their laps.**

**One minute the door’s closed and the pair are sat in silence, and the next there’s a pile of bags and blonde hair on the floor cursing loudly.**

**His nerves temporarily forgotten Brian jumps up from his perch on the edge of an amp and goes to help the man up “Shit, are you ok?”**

**“Fuck” The pile groans in a high pitched, throaty voice “Shit. Yeah, I’m fine I just… Fell over my fucking bags”**

**“Are you sure?”**

**The man nods, lifting his head to look up at Brian. He’s petite, with large doe like eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and thin pink lips that curve downwards slightly, all of this framed by shoulder length blonde hair.**

**There’s a moment of silence as the two take each other in before the man laughs, the tension in the room breaking almost immediately “Well, that wasn’t how I wanted to make my first impression. I’d imagined I come in here and say something really witty that would really impress you and instead I just-” He breaks off with a noise that’s half a laugh, half a groan of embarrassment. The bashful sincerity in his voice is enough to soothe the anxiety that’s been steadily building inside Brian’s chest for admittedly far longer than the extra two minutes he’d spent waiting.**

**While he tries his best to stifle his own laughter the man struggles to his feet and shoots him a sheepish grin “Can I try that again?” He straightens up, shakes his hair back into place and then holds his hand out “Roger Taylor, drummer and master of bad first impressions”**

**Brian takes his hand. Roger’s skin is surprisingly cool under his finger tips, but as they shake hands he can feel his nerves fading “Brian May, guitarist and resident lover of bad first impressions. And for the record it could’ve gone worse. But are you sure you’re not hurt?”**

**Roger shrugs, letting go of Brian’s hand and bending down to collect his discarded bags, which presumably contain his disassembled drum kit “My egos a little bruised, but other than that I’m alright”**

**“I’m glad to hear that. It would’ve been awful if the first time we’d met you’d broken your neck and died”**

**“God, imagine. That would’ve been an even worse first impression” He grins (his smile is so earnest and infectious that it makes Brian’s heart do a small, slightly inexplicable, backflip) before holding his bags aloft “So, where do you want me to set up?”**

 

The door between the living room and the kitchen swings open, and in comes Freddie, carrying a bundle of towels stained with the same black liquid currently splattered across his clothes. He dumps the pile unceremoniously on the worktop (which is definitely not hygienic but Brian’s in no state of mind to care) and sinks to the floor beside Brian. He then wearily pulls a packet of Marlboros and a lighter from his back pocket. For the most part they keep a strict no smoking in the house rule, but after what’s just happened he’s probably owed a cigarette.

For several moments the pair sit in silence; Brian being too nervous to ask Freddie how things are going, and Freddie in turn being apparently not quite ready to talk about it. Owing to his vampiric nature he doesn’t get tired, but to Brian he looks as though he’s mentally aged a dozen years in the last hour. He looks just as drained (if not more so) as Brian feels.

 

**February 2018. One Year Ago.**

**“Did you two stay up all night playing scrabble again?”**

**Freddie nods, keeping his eyes on the board “We’re at a stalemate. Impossibly we’ve ended up on the same number of points, so now we’ve just got to keep playing until one of us wins”**

**He says this as if this isn’t the third night in a row they’ve stayed up till dawn. Where the pair get their seemingly unending reserves of energy from Brian will never know. In fact the more he thinks about it the more he’s sure he’s never seen either of them sleep. They must run on pure coffee fumes and nothing else.**

**“Or until one of us gives up” Says Roger, stretching and shooting Brian a lazy grin that only makes him blush a little. They’ve been together for almost two months now but Brian’s still has his moments of being just as lovestruck as he was when he still thought his feelings were unrequited “Which I’ve just decided I’m doing”**

**“So you’re saying I win?” Freddie’s eyes light up but Roger’s quick to shut him down.**

**“No, I’m saying my legs are stiff and we’re calling it a draw”**

**“But-” Freddie begins to protest, only to wave a hand dismissively “Oh whatever. Next time I’ll get you”**

**Roger sticks his tongue out at him as he pushes himself into a standing position “Sure you will”**

**“Ok… Now we’ve settled the… scrabble competition I guess? Does anyone want to come for breakfast?” Asks Brian**

**“Sorry dear, but we ordered in about two hours ago”**

**“You ordered in again? That’s got to be what, the fourth time this week?” Brian’s too bemused to pay attention to the fact that despite his housemates claiming they’ve ordered food at various points in the last few months he himself has never actually seen any physical evidence of this. Looking back on this period of time in the future he’d wonder how he’d never noticed that the two of them only ever seemed to talk about eating as opposed to actually doing it. But as it stands all he does now is sigh “Fine. Any leftovers?”**

**His two housemates look at each other sheepishly, each waiting for the other to reply.**

**Roger gives his boyfriend an apologetic smile “Um… Not exactly. Sorry”**

**Brian looks from one to the other, taking in the way they’re looking at each other like children who’ve been caught misbehaving. He shakes his head “You’re both ridiculous”**

 

It takes Brian a few minutes to get up the courage to ask the question that’s been on his lips since Freddie walked in “How is he?” The lump in his throat makes his voice come out like something of a whisper.

Freddie takes a long drag of his cigarette and sighs as if the weight of the entire world rests on his shoulders “Thankfully it missed his heart, but the poor dear’s in a lot of pain. We’ve done the best we can for him, only…” He trails off sadly. There’s an obvious shake in his hand the next time he raises his cigarette to his lips.

Brian feels his own heart plummet out of his chest “What? What is it Fred?” All his worst fears seem to be coming true. And this is only made worse when Freddie doesn’t reply.

There’s more silence. It doesn’t sound as though the words are his own when he asks the dreaded “Is he dying?” Brian’s voice cracks at the end of the question.

His companion gives him a weak smile “Technically darling he’s already dead. But… yes” Freddie sighs, pain evident in his voice “Yes he is”

“Oh god” Much as he wants to keep himself together Brian’s eyes start to sting with tears. It’s barely been a fortnight since he first found out about John, Roger and Freddie’s secret lives, and now Roger’s going to die.“Isn’t there something we can do for him?” He implores “Can’t we take him to a hospital or...”

The expression on Freddie’s face gives him a small spark of hope. After another few drags on his cigarette his friend mumbles “There is something, only he’d never ask for it”

“What? Whatever it is we have to try right?”

Freddie takes a deep breath and fiddles nervously with the bracelets around his wrist “I don’t entirely understand the exact science of it, but we took the stake out and he’s only getting worse, so I think what he must be suffering from more than anything is bloodloss. And because most of the cells in his body are already dead he can’t make more. So he needs to…” Freddie pauses, composing himself before he looks up at Brian despairingly and says “I think that… I think either he drinks from you or…” He trails off again, not needing to finish the sentence.

Either he drinks from you or he dies.

 

**August 2018. 6 Months Ago.**  
**Brian slams the door behind him, a futile gesture given that it’s thrown open barely a second later by Roger, who grabs him by the arm to prevent him from storming off like he wants to.**

**“What the fuck was that all about? He was only asking how you were because you’ve been so fucking pissy all morning! There was absolutely no need for you to fly off the handle at him like that!”**

**“Piss off” Brian tries to shake himself free but fails. The waifish looking blonde has a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. And sure, drumming definitely requires a certain level of physical fitness, but Brian’s irritated by the fact that based on sheer height alone he ought to have the advantage here. Apparently not.**

**“No” Presses Roger “I’m not letting you swan off until you tell me what the fuck’s going on. You’ve been off all morning, and if it’s something I’ve done then it’s really selfish of you to take it out on those two. John’s barely been with us for a month, what the hell do you think he’s going to-”**

**Unable to wrench himself free Brian wheels round to glare at his boyfriend “Oh, because everything’s all about John all of a sudden? When we eat, where we go out, what we do. At the moment it seems like everything revolves around John fucking Deacon. You know what, if you think he’s going to have such a problem with how I’m acting then why aren’t you in there talking to him about it? You, him and Freddie could probably have had this conversation just fine without me”**

**Even as he speaks Brian knows he’s being unfair, especially when it comes to the shy but sarcastic nineteen year old Freddie had brought home with him some weeks ago- providing no more explanation than “This is John, he’s had a bit of a rough night poor thing so I said he could stay here for a little while” - But Brian’s angry and as a result he doesn’t feel like being fair.**

**“What the fuck are you on about?”**

**“I overheard the three of you yesterday” Breaking the promise he’d made to himself to sulk as passively aggressively for as long as possible Brian finally reveals what it is that’s been bothering him.**

**Roger lets go of his hand with something that’s almost dread “What? When?”**

**“About going cold turkey. About doing… I don’t know. Whatever it is you’ve all been doing behind my back” Twenty four hours later Brian can still hear their words echoing in his head as clear as they’d been when he’d first heard them- Roger softly muttering “It’s alright John, the first two weeks without it are always the hardest” followed by Freddie “Exactly. Going cold turkey is absolute shit, but it’s the best way”**

**“Oh” The look of horror on Roger’s face is telling.**

**“So it’s true? Have you and Freddie and John been…” He can barely bring himself to say it. But it makes sense doesn’t it? Why John had looked so rough when Freddie had first brought him home. Why his housemates had been so protective of the teenager despite the fact that he’s just as much an adult as they are. Why increasingly Brian has felt as though the trio (his boyfriend included) have been drifting away from him.**

**Roger shakes his head vehemently “It’s not what you think”**

**“Oh? So what is it then?” Brian folds his arms and under his gaze the drummer breaks almost instantly**

**“God this is why I didn’t tell you! I knew you’d freak out”**

**“So you have been doing drugs?”**

**“No! I mean, I know that’s what it sounds like, but it’s not what it seems. It’s, it’s not that-” Roger’s faltering. In six months time Brian’ll wonder how on earth he’d not identified this as a sign that something more suspicious was going on, but for the time being he takes it as yet another clarification that his initial guess of substance abuse had been correct. In the meantime, unable to argue his way out Roger switches his approach “So what if we have? What’s it to you? What, are you suddenly some kind of purist? You drink on a near daily basis! How is this any different?”**

**“It’s not about that Rog! I don’t care about that. Well obviously I care about that, but this isn’t about me being a fucking purist. It’s about the fact that the three of you kept it from me. Roger, we’re meant to be a couple. We’re meant to trust each other. How are we supposed to do that if you’re going to keep things like this from me?”**

**“Because it was years ago when I was still at school, so it’s not fucking relevant to our relationship now! What did you want me to say? By the way I used to be an addict? How was I meant to drop that into a conversation?” He steps closer to Brian, anger evident in his eyes “And do you know what? When it comes to John and Freddie it’s absolutely none of your fucking business. If they want to tell you about what’s going on with them then they can do it on their own terms”**

**Now it’s Roger’s turn to move away. With a sound of disgust he turns his back on Brian.**

**Frozen in place the guitarist doesn’t quite know what to do. The outburst had caught him off guard; if anything like that was going to happen he’d expected it to come from himself. But the longer the seconds tick by the more he realises the truth in Roger’s words.**

**“You’re right. I’m sorry” He steps closer to Roger, who doesn’t acknowledge him but doesn’t tell him to fuck off either, which Brian takes as his cue to continue “I’m sorry for being a prick. But I was hurt that you felt you couldn’t trust me with it, and I was angry because I care about you. I care about all three of you, and… I was just worried that… I don’t know. That something terrible was going on behind my back and I hadn’t noticed. What kind of friend would I be if… Anyway it doesn’t matter. I was just so worried that I was losing you and I didn’t want to think that there was a chance that...” His ramblings end when he becomes too choked up with emotion to continue. All the hurt he’s been disguising as anger has finally broken free, and coupled with the shame Roger’s honesty has brought he’s now barely keeping himself composed. He lowers his head in humiliation.**

**What he’s expecting to happen next is the sound of his boyfriend either walking away or launching into another tirade. In his mind it’s no less than he deserves at this point.**

**So it comes as a surprise (but definitely not an unpleasant one) when he finds Roger’s arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, holding onto him tightly. In his emotional state Brian clings back, his chest aching as everything he’s gone through over the last day reaches a boiling point and he becomes totally emotionally vulnerable. His limbs start to tremble and his eyes are burning.**

**“Hey. Sh, it’s alright” Soothes Roger “I’m sorry too. I never wanted to hurt your feelings. I just thought that if you knew you’d worry or you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore”**

**“Roger I’d never…” Brian begins to speak but he’s too moved to fully explain that obviously he’d never leave his boyfriend over something like that. It’s certainly been a shock, but his primary emotions have been worry and hurt as opposed to disgust or moral outrage.**

**“I know you wouldn’t. But…” Roger shakes his head “I don’t know”**

**The pair fall silent again, spending several more minutes silently reassuring one another via the embrace before eventually they break away. Despite the emotional catharsis they’ve just been through each of them still finds it in themselves to smile at the other. And with that everything in Brian’s world mercifully returns to the state of equilibrium it was in before.**

**Well, nearly everything. As Roger holds out his hand to guide Brian back into the studio he finds there’s still one major concern pressing at the edges of his mind “I know it’s none of my business but John, is he…?” Even though the bassist hadn’t been around to hear his rant he feels guilty for lashing out nonetheless.**

**Roger’s quick to reassure him “He’s fine. Well, he’s not. But he’s getting there”**

**“And Freddie?”**

**The blonde shakes his head “Same as me. It’s not been an issue for him for a long time”**

**“Alright” Brian nods, relieved. It feels as though the massive weight he’s been carrying for the last twenty-four hours has finally been lifted from his shoulders. His closest friends aren’t doing drugs behind his back. They’re all safe. He’s not being left out. Roger still loves him. All is indeed right with the world.**

**And even though later in the day he receives apologies that he doesn’t quite believe he deserves from all three of his housemates, he accepts them nonetheless.**

**He’s ready to move on from this and get back to his pleasant but normal life.**

 

Brian doesn’t hesitate to agree “I’ll do it”

Freddie shakes his head “Listen to me dear, you don’t know what you’re agreeing to. This is going to hurt”

“It can’t hurt anymore than dying from blood loss”

“And there’s a chance we’re going to have to pull him off you. There’s a chance he’ll go too far and he won’t be able to stop”

Frustrated at the delay (anytime they’re not dedicated to saving Roger’s life is time wasted in his mind) Brian shakes his head “I trust him. And I trust you and John to look after both of us while he’s, you know” Brian’s not sure what the correct terminology here is. While he’s drinking him? Eating him? Not that it matters of course. But still.

He pushes himself to his feet, holding a hand out to Freddie to help him up.

The singer hesitates to take it “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? You don’t have to, it’s completely your choice”

“Fred it’s either this or we let him die”

And in that moment- regardless of the reservations that one of them might have- they both know it’s no choice.

 

 

**October 2018. 4 Months Ago**  
**It’s late. John and Freddie aren’t home, and Roger and Brian are cuddled together on the sofa under a blanket. The tv that they don’t pay for the licence to have is currently airing some sort of soap opera nonsense, but neither of them are really paying attention to it, the pair being too preoccupied with each others company.**

**As Brian’s brushing his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair on a whim he says “You know Rog, I’d do anything for you”**

**Roger turns to look up at him, a cheeky grin on his face “That’s a brave thing to say. What if I asked you to jump off a cliff, or walk into traffic or something? Would you do it?”**

**Brian rolls his eyes and gives him a gentle swat over the head “Piss off. I was trying to be romantic”**

**The blonde giggles “Obviously I’m joking. I’d do anything for you too. I actually would walk into traffic for you”**

**“Would you really?”**

**Roger thinks about it for a second before nodding decisively “Yes, I would. I don’t particularly want to, but I’d do it if I had to”**

**“Well luckily for you I can’t think of many situations where you’d actually have to do that, but I’m glad that if I’m ever trapped in the middle of the road or hanging off the edge of a cliff I can rely on you”**

**Now it’s Roger’s turn to roll his eyes “Shut up, you’ll always be able to rely on me”**

 

Even for someone who’s already technically dead Roger looks remarkably terrible. Somehow worse than Brian had been envisioning, even in his worst case scenario imaginings. The throw they keep draped across the back of the sofa is mercifully covering the worst of the damage, but it can’t do anything to hide the shuddering rise and fall of his chest, or the way his normally pink lips have turned a sickly shade of white, or the grey sheen of his skin. His appearance is such a departure from his normal look that Brian nearly freezes in place before he feels Freddie’s comforting hand on his back guiding him forwards.

Beside Roger with one of the injured man’s hands clasped in is own sits John, who looks up at the pair with wide frightened eyes that look as though they’re very close to overspilling with tears. Having only ever seen him cry once before this is just another disturbing image that Brian gets to add to the ever growing list of “Upsetting things he didn’t want to see today”

 

**January 2019. Two Weeks Ago.**

**He’d only gone back because he’d forgotten his phone. Left it charging in the corner of the studio while being too busy packing his guitar away to remember it. Freddie and Roger have already wandered off to snag them a table at their favourite pub, and John’s been left to lock up, so in theory there should be no one else here.**

**But as Brian reenters the studio, guitar case clutched tightly in his hand, he hears an unfamiliar voice coming down the corridor. He slows his footsteps, approaching the open door and stopping dead in his tracks when he hears the stranger say “Scream if you want, no one will hear”**

**Brian’s blood turns cold.**

**“What?” That’s John, his voice calm but with an underlying waver to it that only someone close to him would be able to recognise as a sign of him being absolutely terrified.**

**“For what it’s worth I’m sorry it had to be this way” Continues the stranger. He sounds genuinely remorseful, in a way that’s chilling rather than soothing “You’re young. A recent convert by the looks of things. I doubt you asked for this, you were probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But if I let you go you’ll only spread your curse to someone else. It’s only a matter of time”**

**Brian creeps closer towards the door. Whoever it is and whatever they’re doing, they don’t know he’s here, which gives him something of an advantage. If you can even have an advantage in a situation where one of your closest friends is being threatened by a murderer spouting delusional nonsense.**

**“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you but you’ve got the wrong person. Whatever you think I am, I’m just as normal and boring as you are” Thankfully John’s wise enough to try and stall for time, even though from his point of view (what with his lack of awareness of Brian’s presence) his situation must look pretty dire.**

**The stranger tuts sympathetically “I wish that was true, but we both know it isn’t don’t we John? You’re scared, I understand that, but trying to fight it is only going to make this worse. I’m trying to do the best I can for you. If it’s any consolation I’ll at least make it quick”**

**Brian’s in the doorway now. On the opposite side of the room stands John- who has the sense not to react to him beyond a desperate look in his direction that lasts for barely a second- and with his back to Brian is the stranger. He’s clad in a leather jacket and tight black jeans, but what catches Brian’s attention is the weapon in his hand; protruding out from under his sleeve is a polished wooden stake sharpened to a point. It’s an archaic weapon that Brian doesn’t have the time to be confused by.**

**“That’s considerate of you” Says John, remarkably managing to keep his expression impassive “I’d really like to know how murdering me is the best you can do to help”**

**The man shifts uncomfortably and gives a weary sigh “You seem like a good kid. You didn’t deserve any of this. I mean it when I say I’m truly sorry” He raises the stake and makes to move closer to John “If you’ve got any prayers left in you then now might be a good time to say them”**

**And it’s this that snaps Brian out of his inaction. Working wholly on instinct and nothing else he lifts his guitar case, not questioning the logistics of what he’s about to do and instead focusing on bringing it down as hard as he can over the strangers head. Mercifully the man goes down like a sack of bricks, but just for good measure Brian hits him again, not wanting to risk him getting back up.**

**Having done so he drops the guitar wordlessly. From across the room John stares at him blankly, as if the reality of “Brian just hit the man who was going to kill me over the head with a guitar” hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Then a solitary tear runs down his face, rapidly followed by another. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as best he can but before long the pace of the tears is far surpassing the rate at which he can get rid of them, and before Brian can even find the breath to ask him what on earth just happened, John’s broken down into a full on fit of sobbing. He’s no longer the wry bassist who always manages to give off a totally unbothered by anything vibe, but rather a teenager barely out of adolescence who’s escaped death thanks to the pure coincidence that one of his friends happened to come back for him.**

**The unconscious assailant temporarily forgotten, Brian’s beside him John an instant, offering a hug into which the other man falls instantly. With a would be murderer just across the room from them the pair stand wrapped around each other, John quietly weeping and Brian stopping only briefly in his efforts to comfort him in order to make a few short phone calls.**

**This is how the police, flanked by Freddie and Roger, find them fifteen minutes later.**

**Further on that same evening (once statements have been taken and the man has been dragged away in handcuffs and the band have slowly made their way home) Brian enters their kitchen to make himself a much earned cup of tea and is met with three identical grave expressions.**

**“Brian, we’ve got something we need to tell you” Begins Freddie. All evening he’s kept one arm possessively around John’s shoulders, and even now they’ve reached the safety of their house he seems unwilling to let the bassist out of his sight, not even for a moment.**

**Roger’s voice wavers as he offers Brian a chair “You might want to sit down”**

 

Brian moves closer to the sofa, John dutifully standing up so the guitarist can take his seat.

Beside him the blonde coughs weakly, eyelids fluttering open “Bri…”

“Hey Rog” Up close Roger looks even more small and fragile, and Brian can’t help but dedicate a minute to just brushing the damp locks off his forehead before bringing up Freddie’s suggestion. In all honesty Brian had made up his mind about letting his boyfriend drink from him as soon as it had been raised as a possibility, but as he sits here now- listening to Roger’s desperate wheezing breaths- he’s certain that the sight of his boyfriend looking so infirm would have been enough to convince him, had he not been so sure.

Roger gives another weak cough, this one devolving into a wrenching fit that makes his whole body shake and his eyes water, and as he tries to keep him calm Brian can’t help but be acutely aware that this is it. They’re out of time. Whether Roger likes the idea of drinking from him or not that’s what’s going to happen. And it has to happen soon. Brian’s going to make sure it does.

Once the fit has subsided somewhat he begins “Fred told me what we have to do. About how you need to… Feed on me” He says quietly.

As expected Roger looks utterly horrified. His gaze flicks first accusingly to Freddie and then pleadingly back to Brian, but before he can protest the latter cuts him off.

“Sh, it’s alright. I don’t mind. Really I don’t” While he speaks Brian makes a careful effort to continue running his hands reassuringly through his boyfriends hair “I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you”

 

**Thirteen Days Ago**  
**“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brian raises his voice, not caring if everyone from John and Freddie (who’re wisely hiding in the kitchen) to the bloody queen of England herself can hear him.**

**“What do you mean why didn’t I tell you? What did you want me to say? Oh, I’m sorry, but me and Freddie and John are undead mythical creatures who drink blood?” Roger snaps back at him just as, if not, louder.**

**“I don’t know! You could’ve said something!”**

**“And what would you have done if I’d told you the truth? Would you have believed me?”**

**In the back of his mind Brian knows it’s a reasonable question but that doesn’t stop him from reacting defensively nonetheless “I don’t know! It would’ve been better than me finding out because some nutter tried to murder John!”**

**“I didn’t know that was going to happen! I’m sorry that John nearly getting murdered was such an inconvenience to you, next time one of us is about to die I’ll be sure to send you a fucking memo!”**

**“Oh piss off, you weren’t even there. You’ve got no idea what it was like. For fucks sake Roger I trusted you. And you can’t fucking imagine what it’s been like for me learning that the last year of my life has been a total fucking lie”**

**There’s an instant where Roger seems shocked to the point of speechlessness by Brian’s words. Then all at once a rage seems to rise in him, the likes of which the guitarist has never seen before. His fists clench and his entire body seems to shake and there’s a fury in his eyes that nearly sends Brian reeling in fear “You know what? Fuck you!” He rushes forward, grabbing tightly onto Brian’s shirt and shoving him backwards into the wall, not so hard as to hurt him but enough that it knocks the air out of his lungs for a good few moments “You’re a selfish bastard you know that?” He shouts “Saying that we’ve got no idea what it’s been like for you. Have you ever thought about what it’s been like for us? John nearly died for fucks sake and you’re whining because he didn’t tell you about the very fucking thing he was nearly fucking murdered for? He’s been too frightened to leave the house even with that psychopath in custody and you’re complaining about your feelings?” Somewhere in the middle of his outburst his eyes had started to overspill with tears, so now he’s yelling at Brian with an entire flood of them spilling down his cheeks “And what about me? You’ve got no fucking idea what it’s been like for me- Having to hide the fact that I’m a monster. Lying to you for months on end knowing that it’s probably going to ruin the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. Knowing that once you find out what I really am you won’t want to be with me anymore, because who in their right fucking mind would want to be with something like me?”**

**In their ongoing battle for dominance his tears finally win out over his anger and he lets go of Brian, pressing his hand to his mouth to stifle the sobs threatening to choke him. He sinks down onto the sofa, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he’s overcome by heaving convulsions, tears continuing to stream down his face all the while.**

**Their argument forgotten in an instant, Brian drops down onto the sofa beside him and sweeps him into his arms. Clutching at Brian as if his life depends on it Roger buries his face in his shirt and proceeds to sob noisily into it.**

**After a few minutes of wordlessly holding him Brian murmurs “You’re not a monster. I could never think that. No one could ever think that”**

**Roger shakes his head “I’m sorry for keeping it a secret” He whimpers “I should’ve known you were going to find out in some terrible way like this. But…” His breath catches in his throat and he has to pause to compose himself a little before continuing “We thought that if we didn’t talk about it and we kept it hidden then we’d be able to pretend it didn’t exist at all and it… it would go away” Having only just managed to bring his emotions under some semblance of control Roger once again breaks down into another fit of hysterics.**

**“Sh. It’s ok” Brian starts to rub comforting circles on his back “You shouldn’t be apologising, of course you didn’t tell me. And I was wrong to get so angry about it. If anyone should be sorry it’s me for being such a prick. Again”**

**From his position buried in Brian’s shirt Roger utters something that sounds vaguely like “You’re not a prick” But it’s hard to tell exactly, and he’s crying so hard that it’s not worth Brian pursuing the matter.**

**When the blonde finally emerges around a quarter of an hour later it’s with a somewhat self conscious, mostly apologetic smile, that mercifully indicates to Brian that he’s finally managed to burn himself out. After wiping a stray tear off Roger’s face gently with his thumb Brian wordlessly pats his thighs, and obligingly Roger clambours onto his lap, draping his arms loosely over the older mans shoulders with a contented sigh.**

**There’s a pause. Then- “So, vampires huh?” Asks Brian.**

**Roger gives a small snort of laughter “Yep. I’m guessing you uh, weren’t expecting that?”**

**“I’ll be honest, it did come as a bit of a surprise”**

**Roger makes a small humming noise “Remember when we first got together and I asked you if you’d be able to put up with me and you said there really wasn’t anything to put up with?”**

**“Oh” Brian groans. With the gift of hindsight he feels more than a little stupid “I thought you were just asking if I’d be able to deal with yours and Freddie’s midnight games of scrabble or the occaisional bit of drunken fuckery. I had no idea you were talking about vampirism” Speaking of which- this coupled with the feel of Roger’s arms wrapped loosely around his neck- it occurs to him that he’s been too caught up in both his own and his partners emotions to ask any of the numerous questions that have been plaguing him since yesterday. If he’s going to be living with vampires then he ought to know some of the basics “I don’t really understand supernatural etiquette” He begins “So if this is an inappropriate question then I’m really sorry but did you mean it earlier when you said-”**

**Roger cuts him off coyishly “No, the three of us don’t drink blood. We’re cold turkey”**

**And as if Brian didn’t already feel like an idiot this is the icing on the cake “So that’s what that conversation was about!”**

**Roger rolls his eyes with a teasing smile “Obviously. What, did you think I started doing heroin when I was still at school? Thanks, I’m glad to know you think I look that good”**

**A heavy blush rises in Brian’s cheeks “Shut up. I never really believed you” Which isn’t entirely true, but he feels stupid enough without needing to admit that out loud.**

**Roger, not fooled for an instant, smirks at him “Of course you didn’t” Then the shadow of something more serious passes over his face “But some of it was true, in a sense. It’s pretty close to addiction; you get cravings, withdrawal symptoms, tremors, night sweats- all of it. That’s why John looked like such shit when Freddie first picked him up”**

**“Christ” Brian thinks back to the first few weeks after John joined them, during which he had indeed looked rough “That sounds awful”**

**Roger shrugs “You get used to it” He says. There’s an obvious lack of conviction in his voice that Brian can’t help but pick up on.**

**“Do you?”**

**“No” Then he changes his mind “I don’t know. Sort of. It becomes easier to ignore, but it never really goes away”**

**“Wait...So right now are you thinking about… You know, drinking my blood?”**

**Roger grins wickedly at him “Well I wasn’t actively thinking about it. But now you’ve said it…” He leans in closer and lets his lips ghost across the soft skin of Brian’s neck, adding “Don’t worry, I’ve resisted the urge to eat you so far” When the brunette jokingly tries (and subsequently fails) to squirm out of his grip.**

**“Well I’m glad to see you two have finally stopped being ridiculous, but what on earth’s going on in here?” The couple have been so caught up in their antics that until now neither of them have noticed John and Freddie standing in the doorway.**

**Roger takes a break from his current attempts to playfully nip at Brian’s throat and gives the pair an innocent smile “Nothing. I’m just eating Brian”**

**Laughing, Brian calls out in mock distress “Fred help!”**

**With a grin Freddie turns to John “Do you know, I don’t think there’s anything we can do for him”**

**John nods, totally deadpan “He’s as good as dead now”**

**“It’s a tragic loss, it really is” Adds the singer**

**“Traitors” Chuckles Brian, who’s still unsuccessfully attempting to push a giggling Roger away from his neck.**

__

After a few hard minutes of back and forth negotiations (in which the three uninjured housemates have to convince an impressively stubborn Roger that it’s a risk more than worth taking now his life is on the line) Brian finds himself turning to Freddie and John, having finally achieved his boyfriends approval “So, how do you want to…How does it work? Do you need my neck or...?”

Despite everything the two find it in them to each give a small laugh “That’s just a myth dear” Reassures Freddie “I mean, we can drink it from there, but it won’t make any difference if he takes it from somewhere else. Your wrist should do just fine”

Brian nods. Truth be told he’s relieved it’s not going to be as invasive as he’d feared it might be. If his neck had been required he’d have offered it in a heartbeat, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still grateful that it isn’t.

Hence once John and Freddie have helped Roger into a sitting position he doesn’t hesitate to hold out his arm, which the blonde takes a shaky hold of. Meanwhile John has a comfortingly tight grip on his free hand, and Freddie offers support in the form of a hand on Brian’s shoulder. However even despite the reassurance he still winces and gives a small hiss of pain when his skin is punctured.

Having made two holes in Brian’s wrist Roger starts slow, waiting for the blood to well up on its own before tentatively lapping at it, but it doesn’t take long for him to start becoming more and more animalistic in his approach, very rapidly giving up on waiting altogether and moving on to actively sucking on the wounds, his grip on Brian’s arm tightening all the while. In the space of what can’t be more than five minutes he’s gone from a man at the brink of deaths door with barely the energy to sit up unaided to one possessed. A starving person acutely aware that this is the only good meal he’s going to get for some time, so he best make the most of it.

Yet surprisingly Brian feels notably undisturbed. Beyond the initial pain it hasn’t hurt, on the contrary, it's been almost pleasant. The warm softness running through his veins is a little like being drunk; he feels sleepy and content and safe. In fact, the longer it continues the more he doesn’t think he’d care if Roger kept going. Increasingly he doesn’t care about anything. He just wants this feeling to proceed indefinitely.

“Roger” John places his free hand gently on the blonde’s shoulder but keeps his voice firm “You need to stop now”

To Brian’s relief Roger ignores him. He doesn’t want it to be over. Not yet.

“He’s right. Come on dear, that’s enough” Unfortunately Freddie’s a little more forceful than John in his approach, physically taking hold of Brian’s arm and attempting to ease it away from the younger man “You need to give poor Brian his hand back. You’re hurting him”

This however proves just as futile, with Roger’s grip only tightening to the point where his nails are starting to dent Brian’s skin. This is what pulls the latter out of his state of drunken ecstacy and into a more wary state of tentative alarm. He’s still sure that Roger wouldn’t hurt him, but he’s also aware that his boyfriend isn’t showing any signs of stopping either.

“Ah. Yes, I thought this might happen. John can you-” At Freddie’s words John immediately moves into position, placing his hands on either side of Roger’s chest ready to restrain him but not exerting any force as of yet. With a brief nod of approval Freddie turns his attention to the guitarist “And Brian, once he’s let go a little pull your arm back as hard as you can and for god's sake don’t let him get hold of it again. Right. Ready?”

In all honesty Brian’s not ready, but the next thing he knows Freddie’s wrenching his arm free and John’s pushing Roger backwards and he’s only got a split second window in which to stumble away.

Roger however doesn’t give up easily; he digs his nails even harder into Brian’s flesh, nearly howling when all he succeeds in doing is tearing through the skin to draw new blood just as his victim is pulled out of his reach.

Brian staggers backwards. His arm stings and with the good feeling now gone he feels a little woozy, but the pain is second to the horror that seizes him when he finally gets a good look at Roger’s face. The blonde is unrecognisable; his eyes are wholly black and his teeth have mutated into a mouthful of fangs and there’s something infinitely more animal than human about the way he struggles and growls against John and Freddie. There’s no sign of love or recognition when he looks at Brian, only hunger.

“Brian dear, would you mind giving us a minute please?” Asks Freddie, sounding way too blasé given that he’s physically restraining Roger, who’s currently trying to scratch his eyes out in an effort to get past him. Perhaps he’s just relieved that Roger’s back to somewhat normal. Maybe this is something he’s used to handling.

Wordlessly Brian finds himself nodding, but despite the dread he feels he almost doesn’t want to take his eyes off his boyfriend. There’s something disturbingly mesmerizing about the demonic way he’s writhing in an effort to break free,

Brian almost wants to watch. Almost. Then Roger lunges for him and he decides that it’s probably better if he lets Freddie and John handle this without him.

Which is how yet again-for the second time this evening- Brian finds himself once more trying to ignore the sounds coming from the living room as he waits alone in the kitchen.

 

**One Hour Ago  
It had all happened so fast. They’d been barely ten feet from their own front door, and Roger had walked on a little further ahead, anxious to get in from the chill February air. Maybe if all four of them had been closer together the man wouldn’t have had a clear shot. Wouldn’t have dared. In hindsight no one’s fully sure if he was deliberately aiming for Roger (there’s every chance his target was John and in the dark he’d merely miscalculated) but that’s not what matters now. **

**What matters is that Roger’s now lying on the pavement in an ever growing pool of his own thick black blood with a polished wooden stake- nearly a foot long- protruding from his chest.**

**With no knowledge of his own to fall back on Brian looks to Freddie “What do we do?” He feels utterly helpless.**

**There’s a terrifying split second where Freddie seems frozen in panic, at a similar loss for what to do, before he says firmly, “We need to get him inside”**

**Without hesitation Brian bends down to gather his boyfriend up bridal style, desperately trying to avoid jostling him too much even though no matter how careful he is it’s inevitably going to happen.**

**With every step he takes Roger gives a pained shudder, until, when Brian stumbles a little on the steps up to their front door, his eyes roll back into his head and he’s gripped by a final tremor before he falls limp in Brian’s arms.**

**Hastening his pace as much as he can without running the risk of dropping Roger and doing any further damage Brian enters their house and makes a beeline for the sofa, lowering the injured man gently onto it where he lies disturbingly motionless.**

**“What now?” Asks John. His voice has the characteristic waiver of alarm in it that Brian’s learnt to recognise during times of crisis over the last few months.**

**“The first thing we’ll need to do is get it out. Fetch me some towels and bandages” Orders Freddie “And a bowl of warm water too while you’re at it”**

**Nodding, the bassist runs off to the bathroom to gather supplies. Meanwhile Freddie attends to Roger, cursing under his breath when with the smallest amount of pressure on the stake the blonde lets out an unconscious moan of pain. Stepping back a little Freddie looks Roger up and down. Now John’s gone there’s a definite panic creeping across his face, and he’s staring at his injured friend with the look of someone who has no idea what they’re doing but has no choice but to take charge.**

**“What about me?” Asks Brian, anxious to assist in any way he can “What do you need me to do?”**

**“Oh. You” Says Freddie, as if he’d quite forgotten the guitarists presence. He shakes himself out of his shock “Brian I need you to go wait in the kitchen” He makes a shooing motion but Brian stays resolutely where he is.**

**“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, I’m not going anywhere” The idea of leaving Roger in this state is unthinkable.**

**Freddie however seems to have other ideas. With his face uncharacteristically stern and a harsh note in his voice he says “Brian, trust me dear. You don’t want to see this. You’ll be much more use in the kitchen and out of the way”**

**And much as he wants to stay- much as it pains him on a near physical level to leave- when Roger’s eyes suddenly fly open and he begins violently retching up mouthfuls of thick black blood, Brian knows that Freddie’s right. He really doesn’t want to see this.**

__

This time Brian’s stay in the kitchen is noticeably shorter than the last one. Having felt a little dizzy after the whole excessive blood drinking incident he’d made himself a sandwich and a cup of tea, which he’s just finishing when Freddie and John enter.

He stands up immediately, his tea forgotten “How is he?”

The pair share a look that’s frustratingly difficult to read “I think you should ask him yourself” Says John after a pause.

In the living room Roger sits perched on the sofa waiting for Brian. Already the blonde looks better; his lips have lost the eerie white sheen and there’s a healthy looking pink flush in his cheeks. Someone’s also fetched him a clean shirt to replace his ruined old one, which lies in tatters on the floor beside him. Nevertheless Roger seems just as, if not more, miserable than he was before, and at the sight of Brian coming towards him he recoils as far as he can without falling off the sofa.

“Brian…” He chokes out “Fuck I’m so sorry”

“It’s alright” Brian tries to lay a comforting hand on his boyfriends shoulder but Roger brushes him off and curls in on himself even more, dropping his gaze.

“No! It’s not alright! I could’ve killed you”

Sitting down gently beside him, Brian cradles Roger’s face in his hands and lifts his chin gently “Roger look at me, I’m fine”

“That’s not the point” Roger moans pitifully, shaking his head away “You could’ve just as easily not been fine. I could’ve-“

Brian cuts him off “Yeah you could’ve. But you didn’t. Everything’s fine”

However his protests fall on deaf ears as Roger- master of self depreciation that he is- just seems to wilt further. Burying his head in his hands and shrugging Brian off when he once again attempts to place a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder he mutters a barely audible “I’m disgusting”

Not for the first time this evening Brian feels his own heart break “Don’t say that!”

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it?”

Brian shakes his head vehemently “Absolutely not”

At this Roger lifts his head, his alarmingly red rimmed blue eyes meeting Brian’s warm brown ones “Bri how can you say that after seeing what I am?”

“Because that’s not what you are” Brian softens his tone as much as he can without sounding insincere. He desperately wants Roger to believe what he has to say but he’s also acutely aware that if he pushes the issue too firmly he runs the risk of upsetting him “What you are is funny and intelligent and unpredictable and without a doubt the best drummer in London, and clumsy and crazy and all round sort of ridiculous. And you’re also the absolute love of my life, and no amount of vampirism is ever going to change that”

“You really mean it?” Roger’s voice cracks a little at the end of the question.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do”

“Even though I tried to kill you?” Presses Roger.

“Even though you tried to kill me” Affirms Brian. At any other time he might make a wry remark about appreciating it if Roger could avoid accidentally nearly killing him in the future, but at the moment the blonde seems a little too fragile for that, so he decides to leave the witty comments for the time being.

Especially since Brian finally seems to have succeeded in reassuring Roger; with one last sniffle the tension in the drummer body seems to drain away, and at last he gives in to Brian’s attempts to wrap an arm around him, with a readiness that suggests he’s been wanting to cuddle up to Brian ever since he first entered the room. With a sigh he drops his head onto his boyfriend’s shoulder “I’m still sorry though. About your arm”

Glancing briefly down at his injured limb Brian shrugs “It’s barely a scratch, I’ll live”

As he speaks in come Freddie and John, the pair looking bizarrely awkward. The older man clears his throat “For what it’s worth darling we probably owe you an apology too, for not getting him off you sooner” He says, the guilt in his voice reflected on John’s face.

Brian looks back and forth between them “Christ, if I hear anymore apologies from any of you I’m going straight back into the kitchen and I’m getting that stake and I swear I’m going to stick it in whoever dares to use that bloody S word one more time” He promises “None of this is anyone’s fault. No one owes me an apology. Except for maybe the people who keep trying to murder my best friends. I mean it, no more apologies”

Everyone laughs “Alright alright” Freddie holds his hands up in surrender “No more apologies. Anything to keep you from sticking that dreadful thing in someone else. That’s the last thing we need”

John nods “We’ve only got one human after all. I don’t think he’s got enough blood for any more stakings”

Shifting to make room for the two of them on the sofa Brian raises an eyebrow “I don’t remember volunteering to be your walking buffet. If one of you makes the mistake of pissing me off by apologising then you’re not getting any help from me or my blood if I stake you”

“Who’s to say you’d need to volunteer?” Smirks Freddie, taking a seat beside Roger “Three of us against the one of you? You wouldn’t stand a chance”

“Two of you” Corrects Brian “But even though I’d still definitely be able to beat you and John in a fight- vampiric powers or not- that’s not the point. The point is that apologising to me again would be a mistake”

A beat passes “A mis-stake?” Repeats John

Freddie wheezes with laughter “For fucks sake. Trust you to point that out” And then his face lights up “Or should I say for fucks stake?”

John grins “I don’t know about that one Freddie. I could stake it or leave it”

Shooting the pair a serious look that’s ruined by the fact that he can’t quite keep a straight face, Brian folds his arms “Right. That’s it. I’m officially adding bad puns to the list of stakeable offences in this house. Smoking indoors and forgetting to take the bins out are also being added”

Grinning, Freddie nudges Roger gently “I don’t think he’d actually do it. He hasn’t got what it stakes”

There’s silence. Three pairs of concerned eyes drift to the injured blonde, who’s remained noticeably quiet throughout the conversation, despite the fact that normally he’ll never pass up the opportunity to upstage Freddie in a pun war.

Aware that he’s now the focus of everyone’s attention Roger lifts his head slowly “Hm?”

“It doesn’t matter dear” Freddie leans over and ruffles his hair affectionately “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t know” With a shiver Roger lets his head drop back onto Brian’s shoulder “I feel weird. Not like I’m in pain or anything, I’m just… I think I’m tired” He sounds almost embarrassed to admit it. And although his knowledge of vampirism is fairly limited, Brian- aware that this isn’t normal- looks to Freddie in concern.

Surprisingly however the singer seems unperturbed “Well of course you are. You’ve been through hell and back tonight”

“Yeah but, I don’t know. I’m not used to it anymore. It’s weird. I thought we weren’t meant to…”

“We’re not. But darling you were impaled less than two hours ago, and- no offence Brian- but a pint or so of his blood isn’t going to magically stitch your chest back together. It’ll keep you alive but it can’t do everything” He looks Roger up and down, his gaze lingering slightly sadly on the bulk of bandages around the drummers chest “I’d imagine you’ll probably need a couple of hours rest in order for that to fully heal”

“Oh” Roger’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small.

“I didn’t know we could sleep” Says John “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have spent all those nights playing scrabble with you two”

Freddie shoots him a look “It only really happens if we’re seriously hurt. Otherwise we don’t do it. And for your information there’s nothing wrong with scrabble, you might enjoy it if you’d actually put the effort in every once in a while”

Frowning John drops his gaze and mutters something about pop culture never accurately portraying how shit being a vampire truly is, and how much he misses being able to go to bed.

Brian nudges him affectionately “If you miss being asleep that much then we’ve still got the stake”

“Trust me. It’s not worth getting staked just on the off chance you’ll survive and get to experience what it’s like being asleep again” Laughs Freddie “You’re better off just learning to find ways to fill all the extra hours you’ve suddenly got on your hands. Speaking of which, who’s up for a game of scrabble”

Roger sits up a little, one hand instinctively going to his chest which presumably still carries a lingering ache “I’ll play”

All three of his companions raise their eyebrows at him simultaneously, but it’s Freddie who says “Don't be ridiculous. You’re not going to play scrabble, you’re going to sleep”

Unable to protest Roger sits back awkwardly and dedicates his attention to picking at the loose threads around the edge of the throw blanket. It’s very clear to Brian that something about this whole sleeping business is bothering him, but he waits until after Freddie and John have left to fetch the scrabble board before he presses a soft kiss to the crown of the blondes forehead and asks “What’s up?”

“Nothing” Roger attempts to deflect the question but a combination of exhaustion and a reproachful look from his boyfriend means he breaks down fairly quickly “It’ll sound stupid” He runs a hand across his face wearily “It’s just… I haven’t slept since before I was bitten and it’s, it’s sort of a big deal”

“A big deal how?”

“I don’t know. It never used to be an issue but I’m thinking about it and…” He looks up at Brian apprehensively “Have I ever told you how I became like this?”

Brian shakes his head. Over the last few weeks or so he’s managed to put together John’s story with various bits and pieces of information he already had, and he’d always known that Freddie left boarding school in India prematurely due to a “regrettable incident” involving him and an older student, but how Roger became a vampire is still very much a mystery. All he really knows is that the drummer was bitten sometime during his later school years, and that he abstained from drinking blood shortly after.

Roger returns to awkwardly picking the edges of the throw “It’s a long story. But… Well, the transformation doesn’t work on live humans”

“Oh my god” Brian tries his best to keep the sense of horror out of his voice.  
It hadn’t crossed his mind that they had to literally die in order for it to work. Sure he was aware that they weren’t called the undead for nothing, but some defense mechanism in his brain hadn’t let him fully comprehend the implications of that name until now. No wonder poor John was such a mess when Brian first met him; he’d literally died earlier that day.

“And it wasn’t like in the films” Continues Roger, his voice strained “There wasn’t a voice or a bright light, there was just nothing. I didn’t exist. And the same thing happened tonight after I passed out. And I know it sounds fucking ridiculous, but it’s been so long since I last slept... and I don’t want it to be like that, but I don’t remember if it is or it isn’t, so…”

“Oh Rog” Pulling his boyfriend as close to him as he can Brian spends a moment just silently soothing him. The idea that Roger had to die- was likely murdered- is absolutely sickening, and it’s made worse by the fact that he has no way to reassure him. He can’t in good faith promise his boyfriend that being asleep won’t be like being dead because that’s not something he knows for certain. Do vampires dream? Will it be like a coma, where he’ll be aware of everything that’s going on around him? Who knows? Well maybe Freddie does, but Roger seems embarrassed enough by his fear as it is without Brian dragging him into it as well.

Unable to reassure him Brian therefore opts for the next best thing- Distracting Roger in the hopes that he’ll just fall asleep on his own. It hurts to do so, but he’s fairly certain that if he can get Roger out of his own head it’ll happen naturally, and he’ll be able to get the rest he so clearly needs “It’s ok. If you really don’t want to then you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you to” He lies, and before Roger can say anything he quickly adds “But no scrabble. We can’t have you exhausting yourself”

Roger rolls his eyes, a smile back on his face “Oh yeah, scrabble. That famously exhausting activity. So then Doctor May, if I’m not allowed to play scrabble then what can I do instead?”

“You can talk to me. In fact, speaking of ‘Doctor May’, did I tell you I’ve finally decided what I’m going to write my thesis on?” Asks Brian. Although he’s obviously unaware of this, Roger’s throwaway joke has given the guitarist an idea. Because much as he himself finds the subject of his PhD interesting, he’s sure that to most ordinary people it’ll just sound like nonsense. Complicated nonsense that’ll be just the right thing to keep Roger’s mind away from panicking about falling asleep, while also not being so thought provoking that it’ll keep him awake.

Roger yawns widely before shaking his head “No you didn’t. Let me guess, it’s going to be about very clever very complicated space shit?”

“I don’t know about clever, but yeah it is fairly complicated. It’s going to be about zodiacal light”

“What’s that?”

“In its most simplest form it’s this cone of light that you can sometimes see in the early evening. We’d never be able to see it in London because of all the light pollution, but they call it the false dawn because in some places it’s so bright it looks like the sun rising” As carefully as he can without jostling his boyfriend, Brian fishes his phone out of his back pocket “Do you want to see a picture?”

“Sure” Roger nods, another yawn escaping his lips as he scans the image wearily “It’s nice. Very picturesque. So what’re you going to research?”

Brian slips his phone back into his pocket “I’m going to record high resolution spectra of the zodiacal light in order to map the absorption line in relation to heliocentric coordinates”

“Right” Says Roger slowly “And in English?”

The guitarist thinks for a moment. Surely there has to be a way he can drag out his explanation from “I’m seeing how the position of the sun affects how clearly we can see the space dust” to something that’ll be just interesting enough to keep Roger distracted, and simultaneously just complex enough to prevent him from properly engaging with it.

 

**December 2017. 13 Months Ago.**

**Already it’s obvious that it’s going to be a bitter winter. Even here in the center of London, which is usually absolutely baking hot on account of the sheer amount of traffic that pours through the city on a daily basis, the rooftops are peppered with snow and the pavements have become nigh impossible to navigate deathtraps.**

**Hence it’s understandable why most normal people are currently bundled up inside, but for one Brian and Roger can’t afford to pay for central heating- meaning they’ll be just as cold inside as they are out here- and two the view they’re getting of the city skyline from their precarious position atop their roof is more than making up for the sub zero temperatures they’re sitting in.**

**Plus it’s not so bad; they’ve got all the blankets in the house wrapped around them and they’re winding down from their post gig high with steaming mugs of hot chocolate while also relishing in the joy that comes with the start of the Christmas holidays. The scene is almost perfect. Almost.**

**Brian looks up at the hazy sky above them and exhales “If there’s one thing I hate about living in London-“**

**“Just the one thing?” Smiles Roger, aware of the fact that Brian could be referring to any number of irritating things that come from living in the city, from the summer heat bubble to the morning traffic on the tube, to the exponential numbers of tourists to the price of housing.**

**“Ok if there’s something I hate about living in London” he corrects with a grin, “It’s that the light pollution means you can’t see the stars. I mean you couldn’t really see them in my home city either, but it’s almost like they don’t exist out here”**

**“Oh. I’ve never really noticed that before. I guess you can’t, can you?” Roger cranes his neck to look up before shrugging “I tell you what, you should come and visit Truro sometime. It’s the arse end of nowhere so there’s fuck all to do but it means you always get an amazing view of the sky at night”**

**Brian feels a spark of joy ignite in his chest. So maybe there’s another thing keeping the moment from being perfect. Over the last three months he’s accepted both that he has a crush on his new bandmate (now housemate too) and that his feelings are likely always going to remain unrequited, but that doesn’t make this any easier. He’s become used to Roger making him feel a little weak at the knees, but it’s still an effort to make his reply sound nonchalant “I’d like that. We could get some Cornish pasties and have a midnight picnic”**

**“Cornish pasties and star gazing? That’s romantic” Replies Roger, as if Brian wasn’t struggling enough already without the drummer making a joke like that. He supposes he’s just lucky that Roger continues before he has the chance to spontaneously combust from how fast his heart is pounding “But the only constellation I know is the plough, and that’s that one right?”**

**He points up at a collection of seven stars, the only set visible amidst the almost orange glow of the skyline.**

**“Kind of. It’s not technically a constellation, it’s actually part of the Ursa Major” Explains Brian “And we’re the only people who call it the plough. I’m pretty sure everywhere else it’s known as the Big Dipper”**

**Roger snorts “That sounds like a cheap brand of saucepans”**

**“I suppose it does” Says Brian, and with that the two return to their amicable silence.**

**Despite the emptiness of the sky above them and the biting cold- not to mention the torture of being so close to his crush- Brian feels notably content. He could happily stay up here forever taking in the view, far away from any of his responsibilities or problems. But as with everything the peace doesn’t last long.**

**“Tim’s not coming back is he?” Asks Roger quietly.**

**Brian feels his heart sink; The subject of Tim is the dark cloud that’s been hanging over them all evening. Sure the show they’d done today had been fine, but that’s exactly the problem. They don’t want to be performing adequately, they want to be great. And increasingly it feels as though their plans to become even somewhat successful are hopeless. Which is probably why Tim’s been irritable and distant recently, to the point where instead of joining them for cheap beers at the local pub he’d made his excuses and left fairly quickly tonight.**

**There’s also the added unfortunate bonus that now the autumn term is over they won’t be seeing him again until lectures start in January.**

**“He might. Give him some time” Says Brian, even though he doesn’t wholly believe it “We’ve all been stressed recently, once he’s had Christmas to calm down a little…”**

**Again Roger snorts “Trust me. I think the next time we see him will be when he tells us he’s quitting the band”**

**“Fuck. God you’re probably right” Groans Brian. Because he’s desperately tried to remain in blissful denial but he knows it’s true. And he also knows that without Tim they can’t be Smile “What’re we going to do?”**

**Roger shrugs “I guess we’ll just have to find someone else”**

**“Who though?”**

**“I don’t know. Freddie seems to think he wants to be our new lead singer”**

**Brian laughs “Of course he does” Much as he likes Roger’s new eccentric market stall partner he’s doubtful of his singing talent. Because even though he’s never heard Freddie sing, the art student is the kind of person who’ll throw himself into anything regardless of his ability, often to mixed results.**

**There’s silence. Roger sighs “Fuck it. We don’t have to think about replacing him until after he’s actually quit. Besides, we’ll have each other. We’ll manage”**

**There it is again, that fluttering feeling. Brian glances down at his companion, noting how the dark nighttime glow is casting deep shadows across Roger’s face, making his eyes appear all the brighter by contrast. Even his mussed hair just adds to the way in which he currently looks divine. Near celestial even.**

**He’s so momentarily enchanted that he doesn’t even have it in him to blush when Roger catches him staring. And that’s when it happens.**

**One moment him and Roger are gazing wordlessly back at one another, and then he’s leaning forward and Roger’s leaning to meet him and that’s it. They’re kissing.**

**And it’s not like the drunk kisses Brian’s had before, which have been nothing but saliva and frantic tongues, nor is it anywhere close to what he’d imagined kissing Roger would be like; it’s soft and tender and tragically fleeting. Their lips brushing each other clumsily almost as if by accident. But in that brief second where they’re touching Brian feels more alive than he’s ever done before. His pulse is hammering in his ears and his whole body is tense with nervous ecstacy because holy shit, it’s actually happening. He’s kissing Roger Taylor.**

**The two pull away. Based on the way Roger’s nervously beaming he must be feeling similarly starstruck. He laughs breathlessly “Well. Fuck”**

**“So, that happened”**

**“It took you long enough” Mutters the blonde.**

**And Brian’s not quite sure he heard that right because if he did then that means he’s wasted the last three months pining for no reason at all, and that would just be another layer of absurdity on top of how insane this all is “What?” He asks, but he ultimately doesn’t get an answer because Roger’s too busy having an elated meltdown to reply to him**

**“Shit. I can’t believe we just… Fuck” He giggles in a slightly giddy manner, and Brian joins in with his laughter until, almost out of nowhere, a dark soberness comes over the blonde and he goes quiet. It’s one of those things that in hindsight Brian would understand to be Roger reaching the realisation that if this leads to a relationship he’ll not only have to work twice as hard to keep his true nature a secret, but he’ll also be lying to his boyfriend as opposed to just his friend. However for now Brian just finds it vaguely alarming.**

**He pulls away from Roger a little “This- It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I mean, I want it to but if you don’t want to make this into something for whatever reason then I understand that”**

**“No no, I do. One hundred percent I do. Christ I’ve been waiting for you to do that since we first met. It’s just…” He looks up at Brian with wide earnest eyes “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you’ll be able to.... Deal with me?”**

**Brian wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in tight “Of course I do. I’ll be honest Rog, there’s not that much to deal with”**

**“That’s true I suppose” Roger murmurs, and this is another moment which the guitarist would only fully understand the meaning of over a year later.**

**“And even if there was I’m more than capable of handling it. Nothing could make me change my mind about this” Reassures Brian, before he realises how cheesy that sounds and with an awkward laugh he asks “Sorry, was that too much?”**

**But then Roger’s beaming at him, his eyes bright and his hands urgent as he pulls Brian into another kiss, this one far closer to what Brian had been expecting from a kiss from the blonde. His fingers find their way into Roger’s hair and his eyes slide shut, and in this moment, despite the cold and the chill of the night he feels warm and secure, and he can almost believe that the sky above them really is full of stars.**

______________

After everything that’s happened this evening- all the chaos and uncertainty and fear- the scene of mundane domesticity now unfolding in the living room is practically unnerving by comparison.

On the floor sit Freddie and John playing scrabble, with the latter losing fairly spectacularly on account of the fact that he’s likely not actually trying, meanwhile beside Brian on the sofa sleeps Roger, totally oblivious to the world at large.

Despite the peace however Brian feels restless. Sometime after he’d begun explaining his phd but before Roger had lost consciousness he’d had a thought, one that’s only become more prevalent in his mind as the evening’s worn on. And much as he doesn’t want to spread his anxiety to his housemates, the temptation to share his worries is too much to resist.

“Fred, the people who did this, they’re still out there, aren’t they?” He asks slowly. As he speaks in his mind he can still see the dark shadow of Roger’s assailant sprinting away into the night.

Freddie lowers the scrabble tile in his hand dejectedly “Yes. Yes they are”

His fears confirmed Brian glances around at his fellow band members “I don’t get it. Why would they be coming after you? You’re not hurting anybody. For fucks sake I’ve lived with you for almost two years and I’m fine”

“Brian dear, you need to understand that not all vampires are like us. Not all vampires sit around playing scrabble” Freddie casts a sideways glance at John, who’s visibly tensing at his words “There are some who don’t try to restrain themselves, some who go so far as to enjoy picking off those on the edges of society that they think no one will miss. But sometimes they’re not careful enough. A body might turn up in an alleyway, or the wrong person will disappear. And when that happens it’s not about who is or isn’t hurting anyone, it’s about who's human and who’s a monster”

Brian opens his mouth to launch into an angry tirade about how ridiculous that is, and how it’s absurd to base your attitude towards a group of people on the actions of the minority, but before he can begin Freddie cuts him off.

“I know I know. You don’t need to say anything. It’s unfair and it’s frightening and its overall just absolute shit” He says wearily “But let’s not think about it now. For now lets just enjoy the fact that everything’s alright”

Regardless of how ready he is to rant about those who’ve tried to kill his innocent housemates twice now, Brian realises that Freddie’s right. As usual. They’ll be safe for at least tonight, and they’ve all been through enough shit today that they’ve earned the right to relax somewhat. It’ll do no good to sit fretting about when or where they’ll be attacked next.

So, not entirely reassured but feeling more content than he was moments ago, Brian lets himself relax. Brian May, ordinary university student, spending his evening with his three vampire housemates. True it’s not how he’d imagined his years as a student playing out, but the absolute unconditional love he has for John and Freddie and especially Roger means that even despite all that’s happened (not to mention all that might happen in the future) he’s sure that truthfully he wouldn’t trade this for the world. Even if things haven’t gone quite the way he’d planned.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm assuming that most people reading this will already be familiar with emma_and_orlando's amazing fics, but if you aren't then I can't recommend them enough because without her advice and support and overall general awesomeness this would never have been published 💗💗💗


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